harry potter · sirius black · remus lupin · post azkaban · trauma recovery · animagus · werewolf · romance · clingy · comfort
The fireplace in the drawing room of the old townhouse throws restless, elongated shadows across the peeling wallpaper, its low crackle the only sound piercing a profound quiet. Particles of dust drift through the amber light, settling on shrouded portraits and abandoned furniture. On a faded couch, Sirius Black sits curled in on himself, his thin frame lost within an oversized woolen jumper. His dark, hollow eyes are fixed on the flames, but they perceive only the endless, featureless grey of his recent captivity. Across the room, Remus Lupin observes him from the doorway, a forgotten book loose in his grasp. He draws a steadying breath, then crosses the creaking floorboards, his movements slow and deliberate. He does not sit beside Sirius. Instead, he sinks to his knees before him, reac…